Return of The Cobra Kai
by Saoirse the Irish Colleen
Summary: The story of The Karate Kid ended with Danielsan winning the tournament, but it really began with a bad boy karate champion named Johnny... and a girl from Sepulveda named Lara.
1. Chapter I: Sensenfukoku!

**A/N: **Do not ask me what possessed me to write this fic, it just came to me so go with it.

**Disclaimer: **All creative property of _The Karate Kid _belongs to Robert Mark Kamen and Columbia Pictures… except the characters that belong to me, I claim dibs. The songs _The Girl All the Bad Guys Want_ belongs to Bowling for Soup and _The Ride _belongs to The Matches (we _KK_ fans have yet to hear it on an official CD release or any p2p so for the lyrics I took a little creative license and made up whatever I couldn't grab from the infamous dirt bikes scene- believe me I _tried_).

**Return of the Cobra Kai: The Girl All the Bad Guys Want**

**By Saoirse the Irish Colleen**

_Chapter I: Sensenfukoku!- The Declaration of War!_

It was always sunny in Southern California. And it's not that Sandy Witten didn't like the Valley, but when you have to share space with a bunch of Neanderthals like the Cobra Kai 24/7 outside of West Valley High life gets difficult. And they said living in Encino was a privilege.

Every major karate-do competition in the San Fernando Valley was dominated by the Cobra Kai Dojo, their success along with their insane mantra 'Strike first! Strike hard! No mercy!' was attributed to Sensei John Kreese, a decorated Vietnam vet and captain in the United States Army. An egomaniacal despot whose Grand Canyon-sized chip on his shoulder fueled his logic of 'Beating the slopes at their own game' since losing the war. But even Sandy knew that crazy man wasn't anything when he didn't have his brat pack of robotic foot soldiers behind him. And nepotists like Kreese were **notorious **for keeping favorites- the asskissers.

'Fat Frank' or Frank 'The Tank' Dempsey, brown belt. His dad was a linebacker for the _49ers_ back in the day, and now owned a big sports bar and grill in the Valley. All of Frank's buddies eat there for free, with an endless supply of beer. So why did Kreese not roll out the fatty when he showed up on his dojo's doorstep? Frank held the bench press record since junior high and has been breaking boards with his head way before he even took a karate lesson. Frank's dad's other talent aside from football was breaking bricks with his head.

Jerry Robertson, brown belt. Encino Oaks Country Club has proudly called itself 'diverse' since letting the only black family in Encino into its ranks. Sandy laughed herself to tears. She wondered what Jerry's dad, a circuit court judge, and his mom, a legal analyst for _KTLA_ thought of it from a legal standpoint.

Andrew Cohen, black belt. His dad, Senator Jeremy Cohen (Republican) spent the majority of his time in D.C. Andrew's mother was a heart surgeon who lived in the OR. She knew her only son wasn't responding too well to the Ritalin she prescribed him so she signed him up for karate instead.

And now the crème-de-la-crème.

Dutch, first name unknown but a black belt nevertheless. He probably escaped from the zoo and his parents thought it fashionable to adopt a hairless baby primate. He hopped around thinking he was Joe Louis and Sandy thought he should sue his hairdresser. The peroxide job looked like it was done after the stylist snorted a few grams. His dad was Steve Dutch, one of Hollywood's biggest action stars. He was on location in Italy with his new wife, some model that could have been in the last graduating class. Dutch's mom was a former Playmate and married to a T.V. exec.

Jimmy Anderson, brown belt. The smart one- and Sandy used that term _loosely_. He was in the AP chemistry and algebra II classes; and had a collection of matching polos and crew neck sweaters, the smart-ass wrung the hell out of the term 'preppie.' His parents ran the firm of Anderson, Anderson & Blum, and their commercials were all over the local channels. If Jimmy doesn't get into Harvard Law, they would probably disown him.

Tommy Shaw, black belt. Most recognized for his hyena bray, hotheadedness and an overbite the size of the overpass by the school. His dad was in the construction business, every apartment and office complex that went up in the Valley the contracts were awarded to Shaw's company. The word was he paid buku kickbacks to ensure his bids were selected.

Bobby Brown, black belt. A sports enthusiast with Bruce Jenner hair and was as dull as his name. Wishy-Washy never made a decision for himself as long Sandy knew him. One minute he'd pity the poor bastard his he and his friends tortured, and the next he'd join in. His father owned a chain of sports equipment stores, but instead of getting into the family business, Wishy-Washy wanted to open his own dojo.

And last and certainly least, Johnny Lawrence, a.k.a. King Asshole. A black-belted cretin who carried the stench of old Mayflower money. The original dumb blonde. People like him were a staple in the Hidden Hills; unfortunately they can't survive without feeding off the lifeblood of normal folk so they spread like cancer killing everything in sight. Kreese was grooming his moronic little namesake to carry on the Cobra Kai legacy when his tournament career takes off after graduation. Sandy's best guess was that the Lawrence patriarch will probably buy off his spoiled brat with a trip to Japan, a geisha and by the time the idiot came around from his saké and sex induced coma he'll be on some Ivy League campus where his old man bought him his spot edging out yet another valedictorian as they stew in community college.

What was Sandy's interest in them? None, but since she was forced into dinners with her parents at the Encino Oaks Country Club, she would have to take the Cobras' abuse since she had virtually no friends in her Hills neighborhood for as long as she lived there. She didn't know who was worse, the girls or guys. Ali Mills was _okay _considering she had her head perpetually stuck in the clouds. As for Susan Messner and Barbara Dunn, Susan ping-ponged between Dutch and Tommy, but currently was Tommy's moll. Barbara a.k.a. 'Barbie Doll' had been Bobby's main squeeze since sophomore year. But no girl in the Hills could top The Queen, Amber van Houten and her ladies-in-waiting Ginger McGuiness and Terri Baxter. Van Houten, cheerleading captain and Homecoming Queen who was in the running for Prom Queen was recently thrown out of the school's dance class by Madame Loisel. A feat unto itself. Van Houten claimed Loisel's competence was nil since it wasn't 'preparing' her for her future career as a Laker Girl. Loisel, once a prima donna ballerina had awards wallpapering her office for having the finest high school dance troupe in Los Angeles. But Sandy saw right through that front (and image was a way of life in Encino so she considered herself an expert) and knew the real reason why she was kicked out.

Lara Czako, Loisel's best student and resident of Sepulveda who mostly hung out with Josie Mason, Monica Le Fontaine, Bernard 'Boom' Kassowitz (infamous for his fuck-ups in the chemistry lab) and Rick Heller gymnastics team captain and the crew from Reseda: Freddy Fernandez, Chucky and his twin sister Chloe Micelli, Billy Taylor, Alan Connor and Isabel Lopez. A fist-sized lump grew in Sandy's throat at the thought of Rick on the pommel horse. How could Lara not know he's been in love with her since freshman year? It was the only time Sandy ever felt frustrated with her. Not that she was jealous or anything. She couldn't afford to be, her parents would skin her. Sepulveda and Reseda were names she's heard of but places she could never visit.

Sandy had known Lara since elementary school, but they rarely shared the same schedules. Lara was a redhead but it was such a rare shade of red that couldn't be called either auburn or copper, but something that had to come from her Hungarian ethnicity. Sandy could think of no other explanation for it, and Lara was the only Hungarian aside from Zsa Zsa Gabor she knew. Lara was no slave to fashion preferring jeans, T-shirts and long sweaters. Sandy never saw her in a dress, and only in a skirt a handful of times. She never teased her hair and her only cosmetics were lipstick and nail polish. She stood 5'9" and cut an athletic figure as opposed to willowy that made up the female population of West Valley High. But Lara derided team sports and snuck out before the pep rallies could begin. She was also edging out Jimmy for Valedictorian. Lara was relatively friendly and if you wanted to find her she would be on the roof having a smoke when she wasn't in class.

Sandy and Lara shared a windowsill in the hallway with a _Sony_ radio between them harmonizing with a local band's hit single from the speakers.

_Remember how cool_

_Back in the days of high school_

_We were on the scene_

_Tearin' on through like cream_

_It was lightning in my eye_

_Watchin' you move to the beat_

_It was the ride _

_Hey hey you're the ride_

_You're the ride_

_Hey hey_

_What you say _

_Hey hey what you know_

_What you do_

_Comin' up with you_

_Hey hey_

"The_ Matches_ are cool, but that band that played at our Halloween dance, I heard they cut their first single." Said Sandy.

Lara toyed with her father's gold lighter. "I'd like to know when _The Clash_ are gonna release anything new," Lara commented. "The stereo's beginning to collect dust."

"Think _Aerosmith's_ gonna go on tour soon? If they come to the Valley, I'm there!" Sandy reached into her tan leather backpack and pulled out a blue scrunchie to pull back her wavy honey brown hair. It was nearly down to her hips and needed to be trimmed. From out on the quad she heard boisterous voices near the car park and saw the Cobras crowd around Dutch's yellow dirt bike. She frowned tossing her hair over her shoulder. "They sure know how to ruin the moment."

Lara laughed at Sandy's perturbed expression. "Do what I do when I see 'em."

"What's that?" Sandy asked grinning knowingly. Lara turned the volume knob all the way up to ten.

"Check this out," Dutch could hardly get his laughter under control when the blasting song drowned out the rest of his bad date tale. "So Kira and I pull up on the ridge when she says-"

_Those were the nights_

_Cruisin' around the street light_

_You were in my eye_

_We were a team_

_Racing to a night dream_

_Radio played on_

_It was the ride_

_Hey hey you're the ride_

_You're the ride_

_Hey hey_

_What you say _

_Hey hey what you know_

_What you do_

_Comin' up with you_

_Hey hey_

"The hell is that?" Tommy flared. The Cobras whipped around looking up to the second floor to find the radio's origin. They recognized Sandy's profile and communally rolled their eyes.

"Princess Dorkette," Jimmy quipped eliciting laughter from his best pals.

"Doesn't she live near you, Bobby?" Tommy asked.

"Unfortunately." Johnny just shook his flaxen head and gestured them to follow him to the lockers. Sandy glanced at her_ Swatch_ and turned to Lara.

"Wanna go to _McDonald's_?"

Lara shrugged. "Why not? Mom's workin' late anyway." Just as they were collecting their bags a voice called to Lara from down the corridor.

"Hey Lara!" A head of frizzy brown hair stuck out from the dance room's door. It was Caroline Chardoff another dancer in Loisel's troupe.

"What is it Carrie?"

"I need your help to move this table into the closet, please."

"I'll be there in a sec! Wait for me," Lara said to Sandy.

"Sure." Lara jogged to the dance room. _The B-52's_ 'Love Shack'began playing and Sandy got up to stretch her legs from sitting in an awkward position for so long. Johnny rummaged through his locker only to exacerbate his frustration.

"Shit!" The Cobra Kai leader cursed.

"What's the problem man?" Bobby queried.

"I think I left my algebra book in Ortiz' class."

Jimmy checked at his digital watch against the slower outdoor wall clock. "Well let's haul ass. _We've _got study group today." He pointed out. The dojo's resident honors student took it upon himself to ensure his best friends graduated. They groaned but shuffled back into the school. Up on the second floor landing Sandy was in the zone, basking in the radio's electric joy moving to the beat failing to notice several large white plastic buckets filled with turquoise paint precariously balancing on the brick ledge left by the custodians that were doing various renovations around the school. She began a pirouette when her arms sent the buckets flying into the air. Sandy didn't come back to earth until she heard the wet crash followed by a cacophony of screams from below.

"Oh my God!" She clapped her hands over her mouth when she saw five guys doused in latex paint crumpled on the floor. Sandy raced down the wide concrete staircase to the breezeway to see if there were any serious injuries. "Are you okay?" She touched the paint-slimed back of the tallest boy only to recoil when she met the vicious dark blue glare of Johnny Lawrence.

Carrie exhaustedly slid the closet's lock into place after she and Lara spent the last 15 minutes trying to collapse a folding table that was used for the volleyball team tryout signups. "Sorry that took so long," she apologized to Lara.

"What do you expect from furniture that's been around since WW II?"

"See you tomorrow." Carrie laughed.

"Later." The two girls separated, Carrie to collect her stuff from Mr. Harris' class and Lara back to the window for her bag until the sound of a guy shouting and the ledge nastily stained from the turquoise paint caught her attention. "Sandy…?"

Johnny was firing on all cylinders berating Sandy who shrunk from the Cobras' icy glowers. "What the hell's wrong with you, Witten? You blind?" Tommy whined picking at his once maroon Cobra Kai leather team jacket with his fingers coating them with even thicker layer of paint. Dutch, the burliest of the team pulled at his paint-matted bleached hair.

"You know what these cost us, Witten?" Bobby thrust what was his dark blue team jacket in Sandy's face. His fury burned hotter at the fact that he paid for it right out of his allowance.

"You just don't get these jackets Witten," Jimmy interjected. "You _earn _them in Sensei Kreese's dojo!" The other Cobras nodded unanimously.

"Jimmy," Sandy pleaded uselessly, "I said I'm sorry and I promise to pay for the damages." Lara, up on the landing unsure if she was comfortable about still going unnoticed silently approached the top of the staircase.

Johnny scoffed at her entreaty. "Man, I'd expect something like this to happen from a loser like you." Lara's eyebrow twitched feeling a pinprick of ire from Johnny's cutting remark. "Social rejects like you just wouldn't get how important we are to this school." Lara's jaw hit the deep green-blue parquet. Important to the school? "I don't even know why I let geeks like you live in the same neighborhood as me. You just bring everything down." Now Lara considered herself smart, and she had been doing the smart thing ever since she began West Valley High, allowing the assholes like Johnny to ride out his anger chopping those like Sandy to pieces all the while keeping out of the no-fly zone. The landing's metal railing heated up from her moist palm as Lara wrapped her hand around it. She wasn't completely sure if her brain was in full communication with the rest of her body when she just went to take a breath when instead it gave life to the words on her tongue.

"What are you on the rag about now, Lawrence? You rich bitch!" All activity stopped and the air charged up like an electrified fence. Sandy blanched a brand new shade of white and the Cobras looked to face their interloper. Lara's throat parched like she swallowed a fistful of sand. She wondered if her voice sounded as tinny as she thought it did. Out of practice was a better phrasing for it. When no retort was made Lara decided to pick up the slack and finish what she started. She stomped down the steps with both her backpack and Sandy's in her right hand and confronted the idiots. "Why can't you just drop it?!" She specifically addressed Johnny her hazel eyes shooting daggers at him.

"And who invited you, Czako?" Tommy demanded.

"I invited myself, Shaw. And quit lookin' at me with those bug eyes of yours will ya'?" Tommy was dumbstruck, nostrils flaring from her barb. Lara turned her attack on Jimmy. "And if _you_ were any kind of martial artist you'd put a lid on it!" She advanced on Bobby who reflexively took several steps back. "But all I see are a bunch of spoiled Encino punks!" Dutch began to splutter when she shoved Bobby aside and went for his throat. "What? Can't take the truth, Dutch? You start a fight at the drop of a hat if you think somebody looks at you wrong. That's so fucking pathetic!" And now ready to complete the circle, Lara went back to Johnny. "As for you Lawrence…" She reached up and ripped off the tapered black hachimaki he wore throwing it to the floor pulling a few bright blonde hairs out with it. "You with your stupid hair and your stupid bike and your stupid red jacket! You have no respect for the black belt you supposedly earned!" Lara punctuated her last words with rough finger jabs to Johnny's chest. Sandy unconsciously brought a hand up to her mouth, her pupils pinpoints in her eyes. "Let's go Sandy." Lara wheeled the ramrod stiff girl out the front doors. "Now look what they did. I lost my appetite because of their ugly faces!"

The Cobras stood staring out the doors looking at the now empty campus for about five minutes. It felt like five hours. Mechanically Johnny knelt down to retrieve his revered hachimaki, as far as he was concerned it was an essential part of his gi. For Sensei Kreese to allow him to go against the dojo's strict uniform protocol, could only mean that he was sensei's finest student. And that bitch tossed it like a rag. No respect for his black belt? Johnny clenched a long-fingered fist around his hachimaki. This was war.

-------------------

At the end of a sleepy street in Sepulveda, a working-middle class suburb of the Valley stood a farmhouse-esque dwelling with gingerbread house eaves whose paint was going from white to a dull steel color and had jutting slats on the wrap-around portico. Lara put down the little red flag on the mailbox and removed the few envelopes and rolled up catalogs from it. Strolling up the walk to the front door she stomped on one of the offending slats shifting it back into place. Just another thing _he_ left behind. While the mailbox still read Czako, Lara's mother, Ahna Rubik attained her legal divorce in the U.S. from Janos five years ago on account of their refugee status. She just never bothered changing the name on the mailbox. Lara knew the house was empty long before crossing the threshold; her mother's nine-hour shift wouldn't be up for another several hours. But the travel had her home just before nine. Even as a senior-level accountant in that fat cat downtown L.A. firm her mother only got 2 weekends a month off, and this upcoming weekend would be a working one.

There was no light in the house, the thick vellum curtains warded off the sun, but Lara could still see dust particles flying in the air. Her foot collided into a white cardboard box carelessly abandoned by the door. It produced a deep clanking noise. Lara made a face, dropped the mail on the tall vestibule table and picked up the box to dump it with the rest of the garbage on the curb. She closed the flaps as best as she could, but the number of empty wine and liquor bottles it contained made closing it shut impossible. If any of the neighbors questioned it Lara would say her mother threw a dinner party for her coworkers. Despite the fact that they hadn't had a visitor in five years, Lara couldn't run the risk of _anyone_,especially from school to see her mother.

The note on the fridge left by her mother instructed her to make Ukrainian beef stew for supper and to put her usual glass with ice in the freezer. Lara vacuumed the living room's berry-colored carpet and straightened out the antimacassar on the Queen Anne sofa. Its right back leg was glued and nailed together and the cushions had to be turned over to prevent anyone from seeing the patches on the velvet slipcovers. The swatches that were used were a darker shade of crimson and cotton to boot. The wingchairs' upholstery was wearing thin in places concealed by doilies. The maple coffee table was rickety and made level by a coaster under one of its legs. Lara prepared dinner and ate hers in the living room in front of the 20-inch_ Zenith_ with the bent rabbit ears doing her homework. Canned laughter erupted from the high school-themed sitcom, _The Best of Times _causing Lara to roll her eyes at the pseudo-geeky central character's bad joke trying to chat up the popular girl after losing the big game. Lara was on her third can of_ Diet Coke_ when her mother finally walked in.

"It's not my fault the temps can't add columns…" Ahna grumbled around an unlit _Virginia Slims_. "Sorry I had you cook," her mother switched to Hungarian. It was an unspoken rule Czakos had, no English in the house. Ultimately Americans were strangers even though they were the defectors and Lara was born in L.A. Ahna cast her coffee brown coat and paisley scarf over the sofa's armrest knowing her daughter would put it away. She lit her cigarette with an antique platinum lighter, a keepsake from her mother still behind the curtain in Budapest. Ahna's platinum blonde hair was piled atop her head in a messy bun, and had penciled in eyebrows. In old black and white photos buried in albums was an excruciatingly beautiful woman in a Hungarian high school uniform, now Ahna's skin took a waxen hue and her round face was wan with puffy eyes. She ladled some stew from the stoneware pot into a dish and took out her glass from the freezer. With glass in hand Ahna briskly walked into the dining room and fetched the _Stolichnaya _from the glass liquor cabinet. "I have work to do, so you stay down here and finish your homework." It was already done. Ahna set her dish, vodka bottle and a glass partly filled with lemonade on a lacquer tray; she bent down and kissed Lara on the temple. Her lips were cold and her coral lipstick was flaky. "That's my good girl." She dashed up the steps humming a broken tune.

Lara waited until she heard her mother's bedroom door shut and she stalked to the liquor cabinet and opened a new bottle of vodka. She filled a tumbler two inches full and drank the Russian spirit straight. There was always money to buy the good stuff, but never enough for college tuition.


	2. Chapter II: Kizutsuitari shinai!

_Chapter II: Kizutsuitari shinai! (I Won't Get Hurt!)_

8:05 a.m. and Lara strolled onto campus with 20 minutes to spare. Instead of loitering around the quad as usual, she saw a charter bus parked at the curb outside the chain link fence and the West Valley High gymnastics team dressed in their white and Kelly green team jackets piling in, Coach Stubbs holding a clipboard checking off names.

"Rick!" Lara hopped up and waved to her best friend at the back of the line. He stood 6'1" with a built physique, wavy dark brown hair and iridescent green eyes. He grinned ear to ear when he saw Lara approaching, his pulse sped up slightly. "You're leaving already?" She hugged his waist.

"Yeah," he sighed. "We have qualifying rounds tonight, and the actual competition is this weekend. We should be back from Sacramento Monday morning." Rick looked less than optimistic, but he was always the worrying type.

"You're going to beat them all. I know it!" Lara encouraged him.

"Win? We're going to be lucky even if we place in the top 10. The All-State High School Gymnastics Championships determine who'll survive Nationals…" The confidence he built up training all year was beginning to show cracks in the foundation.

"You're talking like it's the Olympics, Rick."

"Aren't they being held here next year?" Lara's patience was thinning and she steered him onto the bus' steps.

"Will you just scoop that chin of yours off the grass and go kick some ass!" She pecked his cheek; Rick inhaled sharply at the contact. "You're gonna be great."

"Thanks," he whispered. Rachel Jaffe and Cal Thorne who occupied front seats watched the entire exchange from the window. They felt sorry for their captain.

"Good luck."

"Bye." The doors closed just as Rick climbed the top step and Lara watched him take his seat as the bus pulled away. Lara spotted Josie, Monica, Chucky and Freddy clustered by the lockers and called out to them.

"Hey guys!" They looked in her direction, apprehension suddenly crossing their features. Freddy scanned the quad with his eyes in case anyone was watching. "Did you say goodbye… to… Rick…? Lara's friends walked off quickly as she approached them. "Freddy! Josie!" She shouted to their retreating backs, she saw their faces in profile pull taut with poorly suppressed guilt as they entered school. What the hell was going on? Lara looked around, students milled around acting normally. A few guys tossed a football under the lush green trees; there was a line at the drinking fountains and a gaggle of girls with green and white pom-poms tied to their gym bags screamed with laughter. Lara walked over to her locker, but as she was about to unlock it something told her to take a step back. And when the turquoise metal door swung open a load of trash spilled out. Laughter burst all around her, Lara put her hand over her lips her eyes quivering with disbelief. "What the fuck!" She swore not caring if a hall monitor or teacher was passing by. Empty soda cups, crumpled chip bags, greasy paper take-out sacks and candy wrappers littered the floor. The bell rang and she slammed the locker shut not trusting it to hold her backpack.

-------------------

12:45 p.m., there was roughly ten minutes until her lunch period was up. Lara opted to have her sandwich in the vacant dance room; she never bought the school's slop instead frequented the deli near the bus stop. Their ham and Swiss on rye with dressing, lettuce and tomato was her favorite. She cracked open the can of _Diet Sprite_ and sipped. It was warm despite buying it from one of the vending machines. In the cafeteria it would have been refrigerated or in ice trays, but she made it her business to avoid it. She looked out and saw the locker loggias cleanly swept, Lara was relieved. Her first three classes went without further incident, but Isabel, Mike, Billy, Chloe, Boom and Monica also avoided her like the plague. Clearly they evaded making eye contact with her and were anxious when she passed them. Lara stole sidelong glances at the Cobras, sans team jackets, appearing to be wrapped up in their own selfish endeavors as they always were, flirting with girls and kidding around. She couldn't help but feel that this was just the prelude one of their notorious psych jobs. Or was she being paranoid? Lara made up her mind to give Freddy a call after dinner to get some answers. Then again there was Sandy, and Lara hadn't seen her anywhere all day. Now that was strange.

She checked her watch, a _Timex_ piece with a purple leather band. Mr. Ortiz' AP chemistry class would be starting in a few minutes. Jimmy would be there but he typically sat in the front as Ortiz' seating arrangement went in alphabetical order. Lara was in the middle. She deposited her trash in one of the steel bins in the hall when the five minute passing bell rang.

-------------------

Jimmy seemed not to even have noticed her the entire duration of class, just as Lara suspected. Not that she trusted him. Thankfully she was exempt from P.E. since being a part of the dance troupe and spent her gym period in study hall doing homework. She had dance class after school, and Lara just remembered there was a soccer game scheduled. There was a chance that Sandy might be at the game. Coach Ribisi had a hard on for El Camino Real High's soccer team, West Valley's big rival so he frequently held matches around this time of year.

It didn't surprise Lara that Carrie and her other friends in the troupe gave her the cold shoulder either during dance class. After class broke up, Lara hung around watching the game from Madame Loisel's office window as it faced the athletic field. It was 15 minutes into overtime and the sudden death match ended in a tie so it was down to penalty kicks. Many a World Cup final was decided by PK's alone and Lara watched carefully. Both teams would be permitted five kicks and freely chose their strikers.

Having won the coin toss, Team B went first dressed in their away game colors all white with green trim. Adam Westerveld was tossed the ball and walked out onto the pitch. Lara nodded, he was good under pressure. But Team A's goalie was none other than Dutch, and his nickname on both the hockey and soccer teams was 'The Wall.' That ape. On the sidelines, the cheerleading squad exuberantly whooped it up in their skimpy green and white tank tops and accordion skirts chanting and gyrating led by Amber van Houten. Her bottle blonde coif was teased with half a can of _Aqua Net _held back by a green and silver Mylar ribbon. Adam dropped the ball right on the box's line and did some breathing exercises. Visualization was key to anything this psychologically stressful. And God was Dutch stressful. The Cobra Kai badass hopped around stretching his legs, rolling his neck and just antagonizing him. Adam looked to Team A's bench and saw the other karate jerks egging their buddy on. What assholes.

"Kill 'im man! Kill 'im!"

"Do what you gotta do Dutch!"

Adam set himself up for the blast coming at the ball from five feet away hooked his left leg and fired the ball into the net. Dutch leapt attempting to block, but it was no good, it landed behind the line. Team B scored its first goal. Cheers thundered and Lara safely at a distance joined in. Revved up at the sight of Tommy going postal Adam scored a second goal. He was halfway there, but just as Adam was making his third shot something happened and the ball bounced off the net's crossbar sending Dutch careening for safety. Mental block? Lara stuck the top half of her body out the window and focused on Adam who was suddenly looking very anxious and washed out. She pressed her lips together in a line and turned her attention to the remaining four Cobras. They were a little off to the side from the rest of Team A, _whispering_ amongst themselves. Lara thinned her eyes crossly, Adam must have seen them smiling deviously obviously plotting over what they could do to him should the outcome be less than pleasant.

Where the hell did they get off? Of course Lara knew better, since this had nothing to do with the game. If Team A lost without a doubt the Cobras would be pissed, but not enough to incite their wrath. However if in the process of losing Dutch was made a fool of, there would be hell to pay. In the end, that's what the Cobras' problems were. Everything had to be a competition, since their over inflated egos were riddled with holes of insecurity big enough to drive _Mack_ trucks through. And Kreese's indoctrination of machismo just aggravated everything. Remove that equation and the Cobras would be relatively harmless, but Lara knew there was something that was being overlooked. Adam's fourth and fifth kicks were half-hearted and subsequently missed both times. With two goals out of the five PK's Team B's chances of winning were slim. Chucky took Dutch's place at the net and out came Johnny dressed in the school's home colors white shorts and green jersey to the ecstatic cheers of his team's supporters.

"GO JOHNNY! WHOO!!!!" Amber leapt wildly shaking her pom-poms.

Lara knew Johnny to be the team's best striker, also the most aggressive, and if his objective was five goals he would make them all. Secretly all her friends worshipped the Cobras and their Encino ilk. And why shouldn't they? They had chi-chi mansions in the Hills, the best bikes, coolest cars and wore brand name everything. Lara saw them numerous times in the mall toting bags with the _Foot Locker_ and _Nike_ logos. Jimmy would occasionally mix it up with khakis and crew neck sweaters and Dutch taking some style sense from his Hollywood dad would wear slacks and a silk shirt now and again. Johnny was sporting these gray leather jeans lately, skinny of course. Then again he did have the legs for it… Lara cringed and nearly slapped herself. Where the hell did that come from? She needed a cigarette and badly. Unfortunately her reverie prevented her from seeing Johnny make all five goals and heard the ruckus of the cheering crowd. Coach Ribisi knew who he was putting in his first string for the new season. Lara saw a familiar face in the crowd beginning to climb down from one of the bleachers, it was Sandy dressed in a royal blue long-sleeved cashmere sweater, white slacks and moccasins. Her hair was done up in a half ponytail. Lara knew that she would be going back to her locker to get her bag so she decided to wait until the throng dissipated to a trickle to catch her alone. She pulled on a white sweat jacket over her pink leotard and left Loisel's office.

On the field Amber, Ginger and Terri emptied the green _Igloo _cooler of _Gatorade_ to dump the water.

"So Kristi Norbert's showing me this charm bracelet her dad picked up at McPherson's- y'know by the Cobra Kai dojo?" Terri gossiped.

"Uh-huh!" Amber and Ginger nodded ardently.

"Anyway, she says that the diamond pavè heart charm is still being made since the diamonds have to be flown in from West Africa or something." Ginger and Amber made a disapproving droning noise.

"That's sort of like saying she's buying on layaway from _Zales_." Amber decried their classmate.

"Y'know that's just like her to say some crap like that," Ginger complained. "I mean, who knows if it's-" Ginger stopped yakking dead in her tracks when an evil grin spread across her face.

"What's wrong, Gin?" Amber asked.

"Look," she gestured with a flick of her head. Ginger's friends turned around and saw Lara emerge from an entrance hiding behind a cluster of lockers looking for someone. The three cheerleaders exchanged the same malignant smiles. _Are you thinking what I'm thinking?_ As one they picked up the cooler and trotted to the shed where the custodian kept the gardening equipment.

Giving up on waiting for Sandy outside, Lara retreated indoors steering clear of passersby and waited behind the cafeteria doors. It took Amber and her wrecking crew more time to lug the nearly overflowing cooler to the second floor than to fill it with the garden hose. They carefully set the cooler on the landing's ledge and waited. Lara decided to return to Loisel's office where she had her bag and wanted to change. It looked as though she might have to wait until tomorrow morning to confront Sandy.

Terri, acting as the lookout saw Lara coming up the corridor heading towards the breezeway.

"She's coming!" She exclaimed.

"Wait for it…" Amber commanded looking out the front doors watching the soccer team and their effervescent friends bantering on approach. "Wait for it…" Amber's voice vibrated with anticipation. Lara rounded the corner passing under the landing just as the doors opened to admit the crowd, with the Cobras in the lead. "NOW!" The threesome opened the cooler's lid and tipped it over unleashing a waterfall.

"AAAHH!!!" Lara screamed at the shock she received from the painfully frigid water that drenched her from above. She felt the reverberation of dozens of voices laughing at her, the Cobras were in stitches. On the landing Amber and her best girlfriends high fived it, congratulating each other on a job well done. Lara's friends while looking guilty, made no move to assist her, and then she spotted Sandy. The Encino square peg was on the verge of tears, but she like Lara's other friends afraid of reprisals turned tail and weaved through the crush and off the campus. So that's how it was, disgusted Lara ran away slipping and sliding on the slick tiles, her satin toe shoes sopping providing no traction. Flying up dim stairwells she made it to the second floor and isolated herself in Loisel's office. Not wanting to turn on the light fearing she might attract attention she sat huddled beneath the window shivering with her leotard plastered to her body. Luckily Lara put on her jacket at the last minute, or it would have become a goddamn burlesque show. And wouldn't Johnny just love that? She reached up to shut the window and drew the tattered tan shade, then walked over to Loisel's closet and pulled out the space heater. Plugging it in Lara hunched near it and turned it up to its highest setting. It would be a while before she would be comfortable enough to get undressed.

-------------------

After showering and changing the soccer team remained in the locker room to endure one of Coach Ribisi's renowned post-game speeches, which quickly metamorphosed into play reviews.

"Hey, wanna kill time at Golf n' Stuff before going to dojo?" Tommy suggested as the Cobras walked onto the car park. The other guys agreed and were preparing to mount their bikes when Tommy saw a cigarette butt seemingly fall from the sky. He tapped Jimmy's shoulder that was standing nearest to him putting on his gloves.

"What?" Tommy pointed to the butt on the ground, the embers burning themselves out. "So what?" Jimmy grunted.

"It came from up there." Tommy elucidated pointing to the sky.

"What is it now?" Johnny scowled impatient to try the _Double Dragon_ game.

"Tommy says that the cigarette butt there fell out of the air." Jimmy said. Dutch and Bobby guffawed in unison.

"What have _you_ been smokin', Tommy?" Dutch asked.

"Hold it!" Johnny pushed through his buddies to examine the butt. It had a faint lipstick print on the filtered end. He looked up squeezing his eyes against the afternoon sun, took several paces back onto the grass and walked the length of the loggia to the end by the fence. "It came from up there." Johnny pointed to the roof; he looked back at his friends his intense eyes narrowing.

"And who do we know that smokes on the roof?" Bobby asked, though everybody knew the answer.

The high school was only three stories high and built like a U-shaped layer cake. Outside the second floor dance room, Lara sat on the gravel strewn roof atop her white backpack in her stonewashed jeans and a purple shirt with the sleeves rolled to her elbows. Her hair partially damp hair felt like static silk frizzing at the ends, she was glad they weren't splitting or she would have to hack off about an inch. Her leotard didn't fare as well despite the fact she tried drying it with the towels she scrounged up from the dance room's closet. But it was the toe shoes Lara feared for, the thin leather soles were worn down from the abuse her teachers subjected her to. And she wasn't sure how the satin was going to hold up after being waterlogged. Just as she was going for another cigarette she heard a broken tune sung in the distance.

_"Kurai ukiono konouramachi wo. Nozo utsumetai umurebi yo." _Lara crunched her cellophane cigarette pack into her pocket and ascended the flimsy metal ladder bolted to the wall for the third story roof, unwittingly leaving her gold lighter on her backpack. Crushing more gravel underfoot, Lara followed the nasal humming and saw a slight Asian man approaching the school's front entrance. He was balding with salt and pepper hair and a matching goatee, garbed in a handyman's khakis. What made Lara crook her eyebrow was the bonsai tree he carried. Appearing out of thin air behind the glass was Mr. Uenohara, the school's custodian. Animatedly Uenohara unlocked the doors and took off his uniform's grey cap.

_"Keisuke-kun!"_ Uenohara greeted his friend.

_"Yasuo-kun, yasashii buri ja ne!" It's been awhile, Yasuo_, Lara mentally translated. But her recollection of the Japanese she'd learned was elementary, if that. They bowed at the waist and shook hands heartily before vanishing into the school. Judging by their behavior, Uenohara and this Keisuke were old friends possibly from the same village in Okinawa as she recognized the song to be an old Okinawan love ballad. What a couple of hicks. Reaching into her pocket for another cigarette, she felt around for her lighter and discovered she forgot it. Shrugging, Lara ran back to the end of the third floor's roof and carefully maneuvered her body over the ledge to climb down the ladder. She vowed never to hang around campus this late after hours again; it was hunting time for the weirdoes. Lara dusted her jeans off and looked down for the gold lighter to see it absent from her bag.

"Y'know, I remember Principal Wicker saying something about suspension if anyone was caught smoking on campus." Lara's insides iced over at the sound of that smug voice. She spun around and saw Johnny playing with her father's gold lighter, flanked by equally complacent Jimmy and Bobby.

"You bastard!" Lara proceeded to rush Johnny when she was restrained by Tommy and Dutch, each taking an arm. She put up a valiant struggle, but all these guys put time in the weight room.

"Tiger! Tiger!" Dutch taunted. Tommy just brayed. The Cobra's antics were childish, however caught in this position Lara was intimidated.

"Oooh! And a filthy mouth to boot!" Bobby hooted.

"Tsk, tsk Miz Czako." Jimmy mockingly wagged a finger in her face. Another chorus of laughter at her expense again.

"Well," Johnny pocketed the lighter enjoying the Lara's repulsed expression it educed, "we could be nice and let her off easy."

"What's 'nice' Johnny?" Tommy snickered.

"She could apologize to us."

"An apology!" Lara spat. She almost broke free of Dutch and Tommy's grasp only to have them reinforce their grips. Lara began laughing herself, it was hilarious. "Apologize for what? If anything you should be apologizing to me and the rest of the planet for being assholes!"

"An apology," Johnny repeated, "for not minding your own business!"

"Sandy is my friend," Lara exclaimed. "It is my business!"

"See Johnny," Tommy said, "geeks fly together."

"'Birds of a feather flock together.'" Lara expounded. "You're such an idiot Tommy! See, that's why you've flunked English since sixth grade."

"Shut up!" It was the only retort he could think of. Lara laughed in his face, she was on a roll.

"You gonna apologize?" True to form, Johnny was not about to let up. He was also invading her personal space, his nose not six inches from hers. That was mistake number one.

"Hell no." She smiled then brought up her knee, sharply connecting with Johnny's crotch. Lara took advantage of Dutch and Tommy's distraction and freed her arms. She slammed an elbow into Dutch's solar plexus and threw her fist into Tommy's jaw sending him off his feet. Jimmy rushed Lara but she delivered a round kick right into his chest, Bobby despite being unprepared to do anything Lara jump kicked him right in the breadbasket. Her gold lighter having fallen out of Johnny's pocket in the scuffle she scooped up, grabbed her bag and shimmied down the first gutter she saw.

Off the campus she sprinted down the street, through the empty grassy lot and met the chain link fence segregating the South Seas apartment complex. Lara shook the fence desperately; the Cobras' shouts and cursing in the distance telling her that they were hot on her heels. Just as all hope seemed lost there was a rusty creak and one of the fence's unchained gates swung open a little. Lara dashed right through, the little empty car stalls could provide no adequate shelter and she knew her Reseda friends who lived in the complex wouldn't hide her. A warm breeze blew and she heard a hollow wooden clanking sound, it came from a bamboo owl wind chime hanging from a shelf with a couple of potted plants beneath a narrow window. Lara approached a set of bright teal louver doors and peeked in; the room was dark and empty. Closing the doors softly Lara pushed past the screen door and entered what looked like the superintendent's workshop. There were several workbenches laden with tools, piles of assorted junk, a small fridge that hummed loudly in the silence and a couple tall metal stools. What made this seemingly normal workroom odd were the bonsai trees but the moment she heard Bobby's shouting all that was forgotten and Lara ducked under a workbench squeezing herself between a broken _Stanley_ carpet cleaner and the wall.

"Johnny! Johnny! Get outta there! We're trespassing!" Bobby yelled.

"Shut up Bobby!" Dutch said pushing past his friend and into the complex. The five of them looked around, the Sepulveda bitch vanished. Or did she? Johnny stealthily homed in on the super's workshop doors, his _Nikes _barely making a scuffle on the concrete.

"Leave it alone man!" Bobby insisted fearing that they could be spotted by a tenant somewhere. Johnny turned to glare over his shoulder at his friend, though Bobby stayed quiet because he didn't want to get the cops called on him more than anything else. Lara held her breath and tried to make herself smaller as she saw sunlight flood the tiny vestibule. An old woman dressed in a tropical print muumuu walking her dog going to the main courtyard saw the Cobras. She knew every kid and their friends in the complex, but these four had no business being here.

"Hey! You kids! Hey!" The Cobras turned and saw the old lady fussing, her dog began barking.

"Oh damn!" Jimmy said.

"Let's bolt!" Said Tommy.

"Johnny!" Bobby shouted following the others. Johnny sprinted from the open door and ran out the gate.

"Damn kids!" The old lady shouted. "Get outta here! I'll get the cops if I see your ugly mugs again!" It took a few minutes for the dog to calm down; Lara heard the old lady make soothing kissing noises to her beloved pet. "It's okay, precious. Mommy'll make you a nice T-bone when we get inside." The metal gate rattled open and closed, the old lady making her way to her first floor apartment. Lara warily emerged from her hiding place and jogged out of the complex onto the street where the bus was approaching. She considered herself lucky, but Monday morning was unavoidable.


	3. Chapter III: Atashi o shinjite!

_Chapter III: Atashi o shinjite! (Believe in Me!)_

Saturday night and most teenagers would be on dates, hitting the Galleria mall or at Golf N' Stuff. But Sandy was used to spending the odd Saturday having dinner at Encino Oaks with the old people. She pushed her rubbery chicken cordon bleu around her plate smearing the oils from the overly buttered vegetables. She wore a pale blue dress with an antique lace collar, and a matching satin headband. In her peripheral vision she saw Johnny and his friends with a few girls sitting at a table laughing over their food, a waiter brought them soda refills. Sandy made a face at them, though no one noticed. By the buffet picking at the fruit were Amanda and her wrecking crew. Sandy goggled at the bitch's outfit, a shimmery fuchsia dress that hung off one shoulder with a wide silver belt and killer stilettos. It was befitting for a night club, not for the relatively conservative atmosphere of a country club. Then again Mrs. van Houten, a former pageant queen, thought every social venue was a competition.

"Sandy, I wish you'd smile." Mrs. Witten admonished leaning into her daughter. "These are important clients and it doesn't do the firm's image very good if its best ad agents had a daughter with a permanent long face." Image, day in, day out. Sandy was at least thankful her mother kept her job and stayed out of her way the majority of the time. But it was times like these that reinforced her leper status.

"You don't have to remind me mother." Sandy groaned.

"Then _smile_, honey." Mrs. Witten pressed giving her daughter the fakest million watt smile before returning to her conversation. Sandy mildly wondered if all this smiling had to do with the fact the clients her parents were courting were from _Mighty Brite Toothpaste_. She saw Amber, Ginger and Terri cluster around an empty table conniving, as always. The three divas nodded and Amber broke away taking with her a small plate with a pastry on it walking up to Johnny.

"Hi Johnny," Amber said with an undertone of breathlessness she thought was sexy. Johnny in the middle of telling a long joke that he thought was killer turned around blithely.

"Oh, hey Amanda." She set the pastry down in front of him.

"I thought you might like one of these cherry tarts. They're just _dreamy…_" Sandy stuck her tongue out offended by Amber's drawl, her appetite dropping off the radar.

"Cool, thanks." Just as Johnny was about to dig in, Amber stopped him and plucked the fork from his fingers and sashayed herself into an empty seat beside him. Sandy's face crumpled in disgust as she saw Amber proceed to carve little bits of tart feeding them to Johnny.

"Excuse me!" Sandy signaled a waiter. "I'd like some _Pepto_ please. I think I'm about to be sick."

"Sandy!" Mrs. Witten reprimanded. "Control yourself!"

"'Control yourself?' _Control yourself? _Mother, you have no clue how much I control myself!" Sandy's voice began to carry and it attracted attention. "You know what? I'm gonna show you how_ much_ I control myself!" Sandy stalked over to the buffet.

"Sandy!" Her mother shouted after her to no avail. Eyeing a china tureen filled with Gazpacho she picked it up and hauled it over to Amber and her friends. The cheerleader shot from her seat and got in Sandy's face.

"What do you think you're-"

"Amber," Sandy gently interrupted her. "You're annoying." And hurled the soup on her, Terri and Ginger. They screeched and blindly tried to wipe the cold vegetable puree from their faces and dresses. Unfortunately Johnny ducked. Sandy picked up a glass water pitcher with ice chips floating at the brim.

"Don't you even think about it, Witten!" Johnny barked.

"This is the least of what you deserve Johnny Lawrence!" And she doused him catching Dutch behind him, the girl beside Dutch leapt from her seat in the nick of time. Tommy and Jimmy were under the table; Susan cowered behind Barbara who was shielded by Bobby. Sandy tossed the pitcher hearing it crash somewhere across the floor and admired at her handiwork.

_Two birds with one stone. Awesome!_

"Sandra Marie Witten!" Her father yelled, Sandy proud as a peacock turned and left the ballroom.

-------------------

On Lancashire Boulevard above a notary's office next door to the _Chase_ bank was the Black Swan Ballet Studio. Interestingly enough, across the street on the corner adjacent of The Orient Express Restaurant was Kreese's Cobra Kai Dojo. Lara was the Black Swan's instructor's assistant, three days a week after school. Madame Tagantseva already clocked out for the day, leaving Lara to sort through her LPs and cassettes to rearrange and shelve them. Sandy alighted the bus across the street from the bank and crossed. On the side door with the studio's black swan decal Sandy punched the buzzer to be let in. Lara was in the boss' hole-in-the-wall office up to her ass in vinyl and cassettes missing their cases. She planned on asking her for a raise. When the buzzer went off she intended to curse out the obvious prankster that was out of their mind for hassling her.

"Get lost, jackass! The studio is closed!" Lara snarled into the speaker.

"Lara… it's me… Sandy. Can I talk to you?" Sandy's timid voice gave Lara pause. What in hell was she doing here?

"What do you want, Sandy?" Lara asked neutrally.

"To apologize."

-------------------

Sitting on Tagantseva's office floor surrounded by records an hour later, Sandy was feeling better after having a good cry and Lara was feeling a whole lot more forgiving. But she was far more impressed by her shy friend's blatant act of revenge.

"So after you slimed van Houten and her bitch monkeys, you put Lawrence_ and_ Dutch in the assed out version of a wet T-shirt contest!" Lara cheered. "I love it!"

"I'm still shaking!" Sandy admitted. "But, I don't think I would have let myself get so angry about it until I saw someone else do it first. Thanks Lara."

"Y'know, it's not so hard to get pissed at those assholes." Lara sing-songed. "But I guess we all need different types of motivation. However, how could you _not_ get mad at those dick-waving assholes harassing you day after day?!"

"First off, it's not an everyday thing. We're not in second grade anymore." Sandy pointed out. "But when it happens, my parents give me shit about me not being their friend- like it's my fault!"

"And so naturally, you can't say shit about anything."

"Pretty much." Sandy sighed. "Anyway, it's not really about me being _their_ friend, it's about my parents leeching Johnny's father's attention through me."

"I don't get it." Lara said a little guardedly.

"My parents work in advertising, Johnny's dad is an investment banker for one of those chichi firms downtown. If the agency that my parents work for get a PR account with that particular firm, the agency will make a hefty profit and my parents will get bonuses."

"And they were trying to accomplish this through _you?_ That's gross!" Lara was disgusted.

"Mr. Lawrence is a scumbucket. He'll fuck anything young and firm with big tits." Sandy stretched out on the carpet. "Luckily, I'm not so big in the tits department. But he leaves a trail of drool everywhere whenever Johnny brings over a girl- and that was their whole plan."

"I'm getting the picture that life in Encino isn't as privileged as it's hyped to be." Lara reclined on her side.

"Nope. You've gotta have a strong stomach for it."

"I'm gonna regret asking," Lara began, "but what's Lawrence's mom like?"

"Bonafide pillhead. When she's not at _the spa_, she's usually nodding out somewhere."

"Think she could spare her kid a few?" Sandy laughed at Lara's remark. "Lawrence could use some, paranoid motherfucker…"

"What time is it?" Sandy asked.

"Ten-thirty," Lara replied not looking at the clock.

"Jesus… I've gotta go. But I can't go home, not after what happened."

"You can crash at my place." Lara offered.

"Is that cool?"

"My mother falls asleep early and it takes a thermo nuclear device to wake her up." Lara said rising and collecting her jacket. "I'll drive you back to Encino in the morning."

"Thanks Lara."

-------------------

The only light in the house was the TV's flickering blue glare from Ahna's bedroom. She had her blue tropical floral nylon kimono over her white satin slip as she slept listlessly on her brass queen-sized bed; the white down duvet was rolled down to the footboard. Silently Lara cleared the tray away on the nightstand, but kept the vodka bottle and glass there. She left the TV on and shut the door quietly behind her.

"We'll have to leave early tomorrow." Lara told Sandy in a rushed whisper. "My mother works most weekends and gets Wednesdays off." She deposited the tray in the sink to wash it in the morning. Lara gave Sandy one of her nightshirts and they shared her bed. They slept until five in the morning and shared a box of chocolate _Pop Tarts _on the back porch. Lara made instant _Sanka_ for Sandy and a cup of _Lipton_ lemon tea for herself.

"This has got to be the biggest house on the block." Sandy said oscillating her head drinking in what she thought as a charmingly aged atmosphere.

"It's pretty old." Lara shrugged her shoulders rocking herself on the swing bench by the balls of her feet. "A lot of these houses are recent developments. They're not much older than I am; at least that's what my dad used to say."

"The modern design is such shit." Sandy collapsed into one of the wooden porch chairs. "All repetition and no originality."

"You an expert?"

"My parents have accounts to do PR for all sorts of architecture and exterior and interior design firms. The reps would send them these catalogs and design samples in order to cook up ads. I liked looking through them. Everyone in my neighborhood is having their house redone, pulled apart brick by brick and putting up glass and marble. Futuristic flashy crap, like in _Blade Runner._ You saw that right?"

_Architecture._ The word alone rubbed Lara up the wrong way. Her eyes shifted unconsciously to the back door, inside there was a drafting table that had a layer of dust three or four inches thick.

"Yeah I saw that movie. Didn't get it." Lara said.

"Join the club." They finished their breakfast and piled into Ahna's blue jeep. Cruising through downtown Sandy asked if she could put on the radio, Lara gave the okay.

_Father's just a voice_

_That you talk to_

_On the telephone_

_And mother's wrapped up_

_In some kind of business_

_She's better left alone_

"Think you'll be grounded?" Lara asked.

"Naturally." Sandy said airily. "But I'll believe it if they could make it stick."

"So it's that way, huh?"

"They'll forget like they do everything else, and start all over again next time we go to the country club."

_Modern Mom and Dad_

_Don't know what to say_

_They're always too busy_

_Or so far away_

_Modern Mom and Dad_

_They love you so,_

_They're holding out hope_

_For your tomorrow..._

_Genevieve,_

_It's all up to you_

_Genevieve_

_There's only so much_

_That Mom and Dad can do_

Bobby usually had early starts on weekends to have the home gym to himself. All the equipment was from his father's stores, top-of-the-line professionally tested and certified. He gingerly walked around Johnny who slept soundly facedown in his sleeping bag looking to change into a pair of workout shorts and an old T-shirt.

_Fifteen years old_

_Doing hard time_

_Learning wrong from right_

_Dreaming of places_

_You'd like to be_

_In the heat of the night_

_Trying so hard_

_To make them see_

_That you're so much older_

_Than you appear to be_

Bobby heard the song from behind his closed window and he pushed aside the thin spring rust-colored curtains to see an unfamiliar blue jeep roll from around the corner. No one owned a jeep in this neighborhood; he thought but then saw a very familiar redhead and another girl in a blue dress jump out.

"Johnny!" He hissed trying to rouse his friend. "Johnny!" The blonde stirred and moaned wrapping his whipcord muscular arms around his head tighter.

"Five more minutes…" He grumbled.

"Johnny!" Bobby's tone was more forceful this time around. He reluctantly rose and stomped over like a petulant child to Bobby's side.

"What?" Johnny's voice was rough with sleep and he brought his fists to his eyes to rub away the cobwebs. Bobby pushed aside the curtain further and Johnny leaned forward to get a better look through the window pane. He braced himself planting his hands on the frame, his hands leaving partial prints on the glass.

"You're shitting me…" He swore watching Lara and Sandy approach the stained glass and walnut doors of Sandy's house just a little ways up the street.

_Hoping to find_

_A woman in you_

_You'll do anything _

_That I tell you to do…_

Sandy rooted through her purse for her keys. "You'd better take off. I don't want my mom accusing you of anything that's not true."

"Way of life around here?" Lara flicked her head at the houses across the street. Sandy fit her key into the lock.

"More than you know… I'll see you on Monday."

"Bye." Sandy waited until Lara pulled the jeep away from the curb to go inside. Nevertheless, she had the sneaking suspicion that her mother was already watching from the master bedroom window. But it wasn't her mother she had to worry about, Johnny and Bobby dropped the curtain back in place and began their day.

_Genevieve_

_What's a young girl to do?_

_Genevieve_

_There's only so much_

_Mom and Dad could do_

_Growing up_

_In the middle of a danger zone…_

_Growing up_

_It's make it or break it_

_With this desperate crowd_

_This town is tough_

_And tougher_

_When you're on your own…_

_So please _

_Don't leave, Genevieve_

_All alone…_

_Oh Genevieve_

_Oh Genevieve _


	4. Chapter IV: Kare to atashi to aitsu

_Chapter IV: Kare to atashi to aitsu (Him, Me, and That Guy)_

Lara was just around the corner from the school when Sandy bounced over to her side.

"Top of the morning!" She cheered.

"You get grounded?" Lara got right to the point.

Sandy shrugged. "For a week. They reamed me a little after breakfast, but they had a _luncheon _at _Le Chez Rose_ with a new client. So by the time they got home- after 1 a.m. - the only thing Mom was bitchy about was her broken heel." Lara laughed and adjusted her backpack on her shoulder. Sandy took a good look at Lara and goggled.

"What?" Lara asked uncomfortable under her friend's gaze.

"Lara, is that a skirt?" Sandy indicated the stonewashed denim skirt Lara wore.

"I blew off doing the wash yesterday… so naturally I had nothing else to wear today." Lara explained.

"You're a dancer, Lara. Be proud of your legs." Sandy slapped her arm affably. They were about to cross the street when Lara saw five dirt bikes roar into the parking lot through the north side entrance. Lara whipped out her arm and stopped Sandy short. The Cobras jumped off their bikes toting huge, bulging green and white hockey equipment bags. They looked particularly psyched up about the upcoming district hockey semi-finals.

"Madame Loisel doesn't mind if we eat lunch in the dance room." Lara said.

"What?" Sandy was justly irked. "Since when do the Cobra Dumbfucks own the cafeteria?" Lara couldn't blame her, but there was no such thing as 'too careful' when it came to Lawrence and his cronies. Sandy and Lara made it by a hair when the first warning bell sounded.

-------------------

Mr. Leonard Harris, the history teacher, was a rotund, bald man whose suits appeared to be pieced together from the wardrobes of Barry Manilow and somebody's dad. It was fifth period and Lara sat, as she always did, in the rear of the third row closest to the door. Sandy sat in the middle of the room, but she never attracted much attention regardless of the situation. Nearest to the windows on the opposite end of the room sat the enclave of Encino-ites. The Cobras were a clique within the clique.

Harris had his back to the class, his stub of chalk clicking away on the green slate sounding like Morse code, spelling out 'Only five more years until retirement.' The middle-aged man would pause every now and again to glance in his teacher's manual before resuming his scrawling. He placed the chalk on the ledge and his manual on the desk and clapped his hands loudly rubbing them together.

"I thought we'd might take a minute away from the French and Indian War and touch on the subject of civics. What is civics? Well civics is the study of how our government works- both local and national- and what's going on in it, and finally encourages open debate about it. Now not many schools include this in their curriculum, in fact civics is something school officials frown upon. I mean, what do a bunch of kids know about city hall? Well I think you know more than you think." Even the incorrigible nappers, like Tommy, cracked their eyes open and had funny looks on their faces. Were the paint fumes beginning to get to Mr. Harris?

"You all catch the evening news, even when it's only your parents watching it over dinner. I've seen a few of you thumbing through the newspapers, and I know it just wasn't for the comics or classifieds. Why don't we start out with something that really _ticks _you off about your neighborhood."

"Some old biddy callin' the cops if somebody turns up their stereo." Someone quipped. There was a ripple of laughter.

"Interesting choice, Mr. Marko. And noise pollution is a big issue in San Fernando. Anything else?"

"Yeah," Chucky piped up. "There's a pothole about the size of Alaska down the street from my apartment."

"And it's been there since we were in fifth grade." Freddy added. "All kinds of fender bender crap have been happening since. Why isn't it getting fixed any time soon?"

"Just like that streetlight on my block." Josie said. "It got busted three years back during a block party. My mom's tried calling the transportation department, but all they keep giving her is the runaround or muzak. 'File a petition and wait 16 weeks for a reply.'" Josie mimicked the operator with an acidic nasal voice.

"How about that loony traffic signal that says 'WALK' when there's a green light?" Monica jumped in. Judging by Harris' canny expression, Lara knew he was stringing the class along.

"And how about our Encino friends?" Harris caught the group by the windows off guard that they jumped.

"W- what do you mean, sir?" Barbara asked glancing nervously at Susan then to her boyfriend.

"Any problems in your neck of the woods? Busted streetlights? Loony traffic signals? Potholes?" By now Tommy sat upright and he exchanged puzzled looks with his friends.

"Well," he began, "we had the street repaved. But other than looking for temporary new parking spots, no problems here."

"I think the last time we got our street repaved," Isabelle said, "was when my parents came back from their honeymoon." The Encino-ites were looking uncomfortable by the loud murmuring of their classmates and their suspicious countenances. Harris marched over to the blackboard and was once again clicking. He drew a thick slash under the word 'DISPARITY.'

"I know this isn't English," he rapped on the slate with a knuckle, "but can anyone tell me what this word means?" Well he was lucky to get their feathers ruffled, but it wasn't enough to make them squawk. "'Disparity' means inequality." He announced. "But if you ever hear of it, it'll be described as 'the gap.' What they mean by that is the widening gap between the classes. Your parents all complain about paying taxes, April 15 is the day Mrs. Harris always threatens me with divorce." A murmured laughter rippled through the class. "And while taxes are necessary to pay for public works such as transportation, sanitation, repair and education the benefits that people reap from them go beyond a refund check. Those who earn more, spend more thus pay higher taxes than others who don't get what we'll call a 'reward', comes in the form of neighborhood maintenance. The higher the tax base, the higher the priority. Property value also coincides with this, the better the neighborhood the higher the property value."

Lara's hand shot up. "So Mr. Harris, what you're trying to say is that a _certain group of people_," she narrowed her eyes at the Cobras who shot back their own dirty looks, "that live in a _certain part of town_ who make more money, live in big houses and own too many gas-guzzling luxury cars are put ahead of everybody else?" Mr. Harris shrugged his shoulders in confirmation. Dutch mimicked Lara's statement silently.

"Isn't there anything we could do about it? There are more of us than them!" Chloe asked.

"Why waste our time?" Her twin Chucky said. "Politicians only listen to richies." He sneered. Before a retort could be made by the Encino-ites the bell rang and the class filed out.

"Don't forget," Mr. Harris shouted over the din, "I want three journal pages from everybody on the sources of the French and Indian War tomorrow!" Lara caught up with Sandy in the hall as they were going out to the lockers.

"Sorry about that." Lara said.

"Why? What Mr. Harris said was true." Sandy sighed opening her locker.

"And it's not like things would change if either of us said anything." Lara suggested.

Sandy shook her head. "There are days that I think things will never change and we'll stay the same forever." What Sandy and Lara didn't see or anyone else for that matter, were the cluster of Greasers huddled around a trash bin. Chisum, the leader, produced a cherry bomb from the pocket of his leather bomber jacket and Fly, his lieutenant, flicked his _Zippo _and lit it. Chisum dropped it in and they dashed across the grassy quad to Chisum's fully-restored gold '59 _Cadillac _Eldorado catching the leery looks of their Encino preppy enemies the Cobra Kai. The can exploded sending the can shooting across the athletic field like a bullet, thick bits of rubber and assorted trash scattered like confetti. Hysterical students stampeded around and off the campus for their lives as though their school was victim of an air strike. Teachers screamed bloody murder and further mayhem ensued as they tried to restore order.

"Let's go!" Johnny commanded throwing his books down and he and his friends ran for their bikes. Lara fought through the crush losing track of Sandy and she somehow wandered into the car park.

"Sandy?! Sandy?!" Just as Lara was about to turn around a speeding body collided into her and they both fell to the asphalt. Lara's legs were unwittingly splayed apart, her skirt bunching up high on her thighs. So dazed was she, Lara failed to see the very heavy and blonde guy pinning her lower half down. Johnny rubbed his side thankful that one of the guys broke his fall, it happened at least once a week with them. He went to put his hand on someone's shoulder to rise he realized that the appendage he was holding felt a lot slimmer and softer. Johnny's vision readjusted and as his brain's synapses registered that he was looking at a pair of panties. Lara was frozen to the spot dumbstruck at Johnny Lawrence gawking up her skirt holding her thigh. Johnny's breath was shallow and his throat dry. Lara's panties had a little lace fringe with a bow- and they were purple. That was a new one.

"Purple…" He murmured and reflexively pinched her inner thigh. Lara's fist smashed his nose, there was a spray of blood from his right nostril and she took off. Clinging to his dirt bike on one knee, Johnny pinched his nose to staunch the bleeding.

"Johnny! C'mon!" It was Bobby. The Cobras materialized around him jumping on their bikes and Johnny looked up just in time to hear the squealing of tires and Chisum's Caddy burned rubber tearing up the street. The five dirt bikes pealed off after the car, the Cobras primed for a fight but Johnny was somewhere far from the highway he and his friends raced.

-------------------

A cloud of steam wafted out of Johnny's bathroom, he threw his towel atop the pile on his blue laundry bag. He'd bring it down to the laundry room for Rosalie to do later. Rosalie had been the Lawrences' housekeeper long before Johnny's time. Hockey practice was less than stellar. While he and the guys managed to sneak back into school to get their gear and got to the Valley Ice Palace a whole hour earlier than the rest of the team, Johnny wasn't able to score one goal the whole time. Coach Trumbull was pissed- and that was putting it nicely. The West Valley High Titans had an excellent chance to advance to the district finals and their _captain_ was off his game at these crucial practices. Johnny put on a clean pair of shorts and went downstairs. Johnny heard the _chock chock _of Rosalie working the cleaver on some vegetables in the kitchen.

"Hey Rosie." Johnny said coming through the swinging double doors. He made a beeline straight for the steel door fridge and rummaged through it.

"Ah!" Rosalie said menacingly brandishing the meat cleaver when Johnny pulled out the milk gallon.

"I know! I know…" Johnny easily reached into the cabinet over Rosalie's head and got a glass. The middle-aged woman smirked and turned back to her steaming pots and cutting board. "The cookies are in the breadbox- but not too many! You'll spoil your dinner." Rosalie spoke to Johnny as she would her own son who was away at college in New York. He took a fistful of oatmeal cookies from the Tupperware inside the breadbox and seated himself on one of the white barstools circling the center island. He poured a tall icy glass of milk and began to munch.

"What's on the menu tonight Rosie?" Johnny asked through a mouthful of cookie.

"Don't talk with your mouth full." Rosie said. Johnny gave her a goofy grin knowing it peeved her. "Chicken and vegetable casserole." She informed him. "And I know how much you hate stringbeans so I left them out."

"Thanks Rosie." She nodded her head appreciatively. Johnny finished his snack and took his milk into the living room. He flopped down on the huge white sectional sofa and clicked on the big screen and cycled through some cable channels stopping on _ESPN_ where a basketball game was in progress._ Knicks_ versus _Lakers_, and if there was anything he'd wanted more since he was six was to see a _Knicks_ game at The Garden. Front row seats of course. He'd been to _Kings_ and _Lakers_ games in the private box with his parents and their friends eating shrimp cocktail from a two grand catered buffet and drinking mimosas (that weren't virgins), but it wasn't the same. His buddies weren't there and the girls were pretentious bitches from that private school St. Augustine's Academy and all they did was wrinkle their noses at him all night.

How pristine their white lacy drawers must be, Johnny thought sarcastically. And he'd seen plenty of panties: red, black, blue polka dots on yellow and crotchless. But white was like store brand potato chips, huge bags available in abundance and at low prices. As for the others they were just sluts, easy ass in the backseat of his _Avanti_. Those girls were boring and fucked and sucked all the same, all the excitement came and went in the initial panty flash when they spread their legs.

But purple panties, he'd never seen them before. Czako was a bitch, hands down. But she could fight, what was more she could fight like a man. She must be a real wildcat in the sack, biting and scratching- the whole bit. Johnny put his foot up on the edge of the glass coffee table and wiggled his toes. He looked down at the white carpet through the glass and envisioned her naked, on her side and sleeping. Lara had legs up to her throat, then again she was a tall girl, and he didn't have to go out of his way to bend a little to kiss her. And if she gave him pussy he'd do the whole holding and kissing afterglow routine. Top or bottom? Top, Johnny scoffed. Less work for him and the bouncing tits and stuffed pussy was an added bonus. Johnny shuddered, Lara knocked his dick stiff all right, but he wasn't the 'forgive and forget' type. He looked at the clock on the end table, 6:45 p.m. Johnny clicked off the game and propelled himself off the sofa over the backrest, taking the stairs two at a time he pulled on a yellow polo shirt and stepped into a pair of loafers. 'No shirt, no shoes, no service' was Rosalie's motto at the dinner table.

-------------------

Another Saturday night came around and Lara met Sandy at the Valley Ice Palace. And she was running ten minutes late. Lara only paid for the locker rental; she owned a pair of white figure skates and stuffed her gym bag containing her sneakers into it and walked on the rubber into the arena. The mirrored ball rotated reflecting hundreds of lights washing the white ice a rainbow of colors. The stereo blasted a Van Halen song and she saw skaters gliding in an excited counterclockwise circle. Painted across the second tier in green was 'HOME OF THE WEST VALLEY TITANS'. It ended with their team logo of an Olympian god winding up a hockey stick for a slapshot. The tiny café, concession stand and arcade were noisy and the lines were long. Lara was starting to feel the chill and wanted to get moving. She was dressed in a long ribbed white sweater and skintight white jeans. Bending down to tear off her pink skateguards she heard her name being called over the rock cacophony.

"Lara! Lara!" She tossed her head to the left and right until she saw Sandy sitting with another girl at a back table at the café. She waved her over.

"Sorry I'm late." Lara apologized, Sandy and the other girl stood up.

"Don't worry about it." Sandy said. She was dressed in dark blue jeans and a red mock turtleneck that was untucked. Sandy had her hair done in a French braid tied off with a red shoelace ribbon. "This is Eileen Sandrak. She's a friend of mine from band." Sandy introduced them. Lara instantly liked Eileen; the brunette had her hair in a ponytail with a braid wrapped around its base and a black sweater with dancing red polar bears going across and khaki pants. Both Eileen and Sandy wore beige skating boots.

"Did you wait long?" Lara asked her.

"Nah." Eileen dismissed her worries. "I hadn't skated in a while, so I'm a little nervous."

"Don't worry," Sandy said jovially, "if you fall on your ass we won't laugh."

"Thanks a lot!" Eileen said and whapped her shoulder.

"C'mon, let's get it over with." Lara said and the three placed their skateguards nearest to the rink door and took off. The three fooled around for a half an hour forming a chain and snapping like a whip across the ice. Lara decided to show off her figure skating skills, proof that she was awake during those lessons, completing a figure eight and a back sit spin. Eileen and Sandy applauded. But as a dancer it was her spirals that she was most proud of. Her extension of her free leg was straight as an arrow, her back was supple and curved just right and her toe was pointed perfectly. Lara demonstrated a slide spiral, leaning her blade on a perfect angle and "sliding" backward. Her arms positions went from backward as though she were in flight to slowly embracing herself as she came to a stop.

There came more applause but not just from Lara's friends. She looked over her shoulder as she approached Eileen and Sandy.

"New talent, three o'clock." Eileen said. Three guys dressed in jeans and the familiar colors of silver, white and gold hockey jerseys of the Titans rivals the Grant High Knights. A medieval knight's helmet splayed across the front was their team logo. Lara casually spun around and leaned on her folded arms on the rink boards thrusting her ass out. Eileen and Sandy followed suit adopting similar provocative stances.

"That's Derek Lanier." Lara spoke about the tall strawberry blonde with the long wavy hair. The white 'C' indicating his captain's rank emblazoned on his right shoulder.

"I know," Sandy sighed. "Gorgeous…"

"He's French?" Eileen asked.

"Québécois, actually." Lara corrected.

"And he's checking you out." Eileen said. "Rather your ass, _actually_." Sandy tittered. Lara glanced over her shoulder and saw Derek conferring with his teammates then made a gesture for her to skate over. Lara just smiled and turned back to her friends. She made it a point to play hard to get, especially when it came to school rivals.

Derek and his friends glided over.

The two with the names Rossini and Paradise over their numbers readily made conversation with Sandy and Eileen, Derek and Lara looked each other over for a long moment before speaking.

"Nice moves," Derek complemented in his Quebecois accent.

"Je vous ai entendu avoir quelques mouvements gentils aussi." _I heard you have some nice moves too._ The four chattering excitably halted and gawked at Lara's effortless flirting in Derek's native tongue. Eileen and Sandy then exchanged the 'Lara's a player' expression.

"Votre Français est excellent. Vous le parlez beaucoup?"_ Your French is excellent. You speak it a lot? _Derek was duly impressed as Lara expected.

"Mon professeur de ballet est aliéné. Nous n'avons eu aucun choix mais pour apprendre." _My ballet teacher is insane. We had no choice but to learn._

Derek laughed heartily. "You're funny, I like that." Lara and her friends shared knowing looks. "I'm Derek." He introduced himself, Lara shook his hand.

"I know. I'm Lara."

"This is Tim," Derek pointed to Paradise.

"How ya doin'?" Paradise nodded to Lara.

"And this is Anthony." He indicated Rossini.

"Hiya." Rossini waved.

"Nice to meet you." Lara shook their hands.

"You go to West Valley?" Derek asked.

"Yeah." Lara shrugged. "Should that stop anybody?"

"Non."

The three couples skated around for another hour then took a hot cocoa break at the café.

"Listen," Lara said to her friends as the guys got refills, "you mind if Derek and I take off after this?" Eileen shoved her playfully.

"You and your fast little ass…" Sandy squealed. Derek and his pals walked over to their table, but only Paradise and Rossini sat down.

"One hot chocolate to go." He handed Lara her covered drink.

"You're sweet." She gently took the hot cup from Derek's hand. "I'll talk to you guys." Lara said to Eileen and Sandy.

"You will be." Eileen said suggestively.

"Bye." Sandy wiggled her fingers at them.

"You two," Derek addressed his teammates, "practice six a.m. on Monday." Paradise mock saluted him. "Night everybody." He smiled charmingly at the girls. Arms wound round each other's waists Lara and Derek headed for the lockers. They quickly changed out of their skates, Lara slung her gym bag over her shoulder and Derek carried his hockey skates by the blades the razor sharp edges protected by thick black guards. Lara finished off the last of her cocoa and tossed the empty cup into a nearby metal bin in the parking lot when she saw Derek pop the trunk of a sleek black _Pontiac_ Trans Am and unzip his silver equipment bag to put his skates in. Lara stretched her arms out and caressed the body with her fingers.

"Like what you see?" Derek shut the trunk.

"Talking about the car?" Lara teased.

"Want to go to Golf n' Stuff first?" First? Ooh, presumptuous.

"Why not?" Derek graciously opened the passenger door for her.

-------------------

Barbara Dunn and Susan Messner were tying their sneakers on after finishing a fun turn on the trampoline and were hungry for pizza with everything (minus the onions and anchovies) and garlic knots. They refused to eat until they were finished on Golf n' Stuff's puke rides. The Cobras having put an order for new leather jackets donned their green and white varsity jackets were particularly amped up for the upcoming hockey semi-final next Saturday after a more successful practice that afternoon. The arcade games took a beating from them as well. Bobby whooped it up after putting his targets down in a shooting game.

"Hey!" Bobby occupied the empty seat beside Johnny as he was spinning the steering wheel of a drag racing game like a madman. "Who do you think Trumbull'll get to replace Wronsky?"

"He keeps two goalies on his roster usually. And you know how picky he gets about replacements _this_ late in the playoffs." Johnny said without missing a beat or facing his friend.

"Shit happens. He doesn't exactly have a crystal ball y'know."

"If there's a tryout, it'll be someone that doesn't piss Dutch off that easily." Jimmy came storming from around the corner.

"I'd like to know who invited Van Houten?" He fumed. "That whore Ginger McGuiness made me lose at _Pacman._ _**Pacman!**_"

"C'mon Jimmy, it's not that bad…" Dutch said cramming clusters of caramel corn into his mouth.

"That's 'cause Terri Baxter made a date with you!" Jimmy barked. While Johnny was ensconced in his _Indy 500_ fantasy Bobby didn't want any part of Dutch and Jimmy's bitching.

"Where's Tommy?" He asked no one in particular.

"Gettin' the food." Johnny answered him.

"I'm gonna get more quarters and find Barbie." Bobby made a quick and quiet escape.

Susan got a few dollars worth of quarters from the machine while Barbara sucked on a cherry slushie. "Okay." Susan said to her. "Tommy had better _not_ have gotten anything with anchovies, or it's over!" Barbara was just about to offer Susan a sip of her slushie when they heard a shrieking whistle followed by wild feminine cheers coming from the foosball consoles. It was too hard to resist checking it out and they saw over the plastic dome of the foosball hockey Derek Lanier. His face split in an incredulous grin as the girl he apparently lost to pumped her fist and whirled her arm as though she spun an invisible lasso aloft.

"Oh. My. God." Was all that Susan was able to say.

"It's Derek Lanier from Grant!" Barbara said in a panicky voice. "Is he stupid wearing his jersey in here? If Johnny sees him he'll wipe the entire arcade floor with his ass!"

"Barbie!" It was Bobby. The two girls looked at each other and wondered if things could get any worse.

"You beat me!" Derek walked around the console and Lara primly sat on the stool. "Bad girl!"

"You let me win and you know it."

"Did not!" Derek refuted. "You forget I'm _Canadien_, and that's a major offense in our game." Lara propped her arm on the plastic bubble and suspended her head on a fist.

"I guess parliament would consider that treason. Or would the Queen grant a special pardon for hockey players?"

"La reine anglaise n'est pas ma reine." _The English Queen ain't my queen, _Derek muttered.

"Y'know I remember reading about your dad, Yves, getting traded from the _Maple Leafs _to the _Kings_ when he was still playing." Lara said. "Is that how you came to the U.S.?"

"Yeah." Derek confirmed.

"You from Montréal?"

Derek shook his head. "Gatineau. It's not_ too_ far from Montréal. It's pretty bi-lingual too."

"Is it nice?" Lara asked.

"I think so. I try to get back every summer, all my friends live there."

"And girlfriend?" Lara gibed Derek, but he only laughed.

"You should come up and see it some time."

"Bet you say that to all the girls that kick your ass at foosball hockey."

"Only the ones that speak French."

"Est-ce que c'est une bonne chose d'où vous venez?" _Is that a good thing where you come from? _Lara asked.

"What do you think?" Derek leaned down and kissed Lara.

"Ooh! Kissies!" Susan exclaimed getting Barbara's attention. They watched Derek play tonsil hockey with his date with interest. Lara rose up from the stool to embrace Derek who, in turn, cupped her ass.

"Barbara? There you are!" Bobby spotted his girlfriend and Susan by the _Donkey Kong_ games.

"Bobby!" Barbara exclaimed and she and Susan spun round trying to surreptitiously block his view of the couple that was making out. "Me and Suzie were just looking for you!" She spoke like a tape recorder on the fastest setting. She nudged Susan.

"Yeah! Did Tommy get the food?" Susan asked. "I'm starving! Let's go!" The two girls tried to push Bobby ahead of them with little luck.

"Hold it! What's goin' on?" He demanded.

"Nothing!" Susan and Barbara chorused. Bobby clasped Barbara's shoulders but before he could open his mouth he looked up and caught a Grant hockey jersey in his peripheral vision.

"What the fuck is _he_ doin' here!" Bobby hissed pointing at Derek.

"Bobby, please!" Barbara pleaded. Bobby's fists clenched, he was about to charge when the oblivious couple Bobby was about to break up turned to show their profiles and he recognized Lara in Lanier's arms. Bobby's throat went dry and he was frozen to the spot.

"Is that…?" Barbara squeaked.

"Oh. My. God." Susan said. Lara Czako? Was the stupid flu going around, or what? Nobody in their right mind would cross school colors so blatantly- and during playoff season of all times! Lara and Derek opened their mouths to trade tongues, but it was hardly indecent enough to have security hose them down. They came up for air, Lara feeling as though she went on a magic carpet ride.

"Not that I'm complaining but… you have anything else on the itinerary besides Golf n' Stuff?" Lara asked playing with Derek's collar.

"Let's get a pizza… to go." Derek said. The Canadian draped an arm around Lara's shoulders and they merrily waltzed out of the arcade.

Johnny needed more quarters, but he left his wallet in his equipment bag. "I need more quarters," he told Dutch who was playing _Space Invaders_. "I'll meet you at the pizza place." He dashed out the other exit and went out to his _Avanti_. Johnny was just about to open the passenger side door to the backseat where his bag sat when he saw in the open doors of Ecco's Pizza n' Stuff Lara Czako and Derek Lanier. Over the glass display case they handed a worker the money for a Hawaiian style pizza and then walk to the parking spaces near the water slide. Lara laughed gaily at whatever quip Derek made and he placed their food in the backseat before Lara climbed in. Johnny watched this silently and kept his eyes on Lanier's Trans Am until its red taillights were no longer visible. For the first time in his life, he was unsure if it was murder or jealousy he felt over the girl he was blacklisting going home with his biggest hockey rival.

"Johnny!" Tommy clapped his hand on Johnny's shoulder.

"What?!" Johnny snapped.

"I've been calling you for 10 minutes." Tommy thumbed over his shoulder. "Food, man." Two rear tables in the outdoor dining area were combined to seat the Cobras, Susan and Barbara and Amber and her wrecking crew. As Johnny mounted the step Amber waved to him and patted the seat beside her. Johnny could still see Lara laughing and all he wanted to do was slap the grin off Amber's face.

-------------------

A half-eaten extra large Hawaiian-style pizza pie sat atop the kitchen table in Derek Lanier's Valley Glen house. On the floor of his parents' bedroom Derek and Lara cuddled sleepily under the mink blanket, the fire snapped in the hearth. Lise Lanier, Derek's mother wouldn't be back from Scarborough, Ontario unil Monday afternoon. After Yves Lanier's retirement from the NHL he went back to Canada to work for the Ontario Hockey League, one of the three major Junior "A" Tier I hockey leagues in the country. Lise would travel up north whenever she and Yves made a major television appearance on the CBC. Derek proved himself trustworthy to have the Los Angeles house to himself by never hosting parties. But his mother never said anything about not having a date over.

Meanwhile at Johnny's Encino house a tipsy Amber van Houten giddily stumbled out of the pool house carrying her white pumps and strapless bra and blew a good night kiss to Johnny before falling into the cab he called her. He gathered up the beach towel they fucked on and took it to the laundry room, stuffing it into the washing machine. It was a quickie- 15 minutes, no more no less- and she was soused from the mickey he slipped into her rum and _Diet Coke_ with one of his mother's _Seconals_ he lifted so it would be less straining to get rid of her. Dressed in nothing but a pair of jeans, top button undone, he sidled to the kitchen and pulled out the carton of _Five Alive _drinking about a quarter of the contents. Rosalie would kick his ass if she saw him not using a glass, but she went home hours ago and didn't work Sundays. His parents wouldn't be home until Sunday night since his father decided to take the boat out on an impromptu fishing weekend with Jimmy's parents to Catalina. Johnny finished off the juice and tossed the empty carton into the trash.

He tossed his varsity jacket on the breakfast nook beneath the window, a light grey cushioned bench wrapped around a circular glass table, and shuffled through the pockets. Johnny pulled out a _Sucrets_ tin and flipped open the lid, only two joints left. It rolled off his back, he had a wad stashed away in a football he tore some of the stuffing from tutoring some of the brats in his neighborhood in karate. Most of his students were good; others he wondered why they even tried. No matter, he expected a big payoff from Mrs. Cooper and he'd be set for the rest of the semester and summer. Johnny lit up and took a long pull; it was a few minutes before he began floating. He scratched his chest and wondered if he should put his shirt back on, it wasn't that he was cold he just wondered. Johnny kept his hand on his breastbone studying his naked tanned skin and his brain wandered back to the sex he had with Amber. She wouldn't keep her mouth off his dick. It wasn't he didn't like it- what guy wouldn't- but variety is a good thing.

Amber's body was nice, but she was a dieter and her ribs protruded. Nothing firm to grab or suck either. Lara was athletic; she had muscle tone and an ass. For a ballet dancer her tits were big too. How big were her nipples? Were they sensitive? He liked that, big nipples. Damn, weed can make you think strange shit, Johnny thought. But it wasn't like he was saying it aloud where his buddies could hear it. But he supposed it was okay to want to fuck a girl he hated… then again 'hate' was a strong word. Getting even was more like it; after all she kneed him in the groin. Johnny was down to the roach and he put it out to bury it in the ashes in the fireplace. He smacked his lips, the munchies were settling in and it was sandwich time. Clapping his hands and rubbing them greedily, Johnny raided the fridge and set to work. Leftover ham, Swiss cheese, _Miracle Whip_, _Gulden's _mustard, ketchup, _Iceberg_ lettuce, a beef tomato, bread and butter pickles, a carrot, Italian dressing and a loaf of Italian bread were the building blocks of his smorgasbord hoagie. Twenty minutes later when Johnny was finished cleaning up he grabbed a bag of _Ruffles_ to go with his hoagieand headed to the living room to catch the late night movie.

Johnny flipped on the big screen and _KTLA's_ 11 o'clock news was concluding with the sports wrap-up. The _Kings _won against the Boston _Bruins_, and he thought about the upcoming hockey game. Both he and Lanier were captains and they also played wing, there was an excellent chance there might be a face off. He hoped Lara would be in the stands next Saturday.

-------------------

A charter bus dropped off several members of the West Valley High gymnastics team, including Rick Heller in Sepulveda. They were gone for two full weeks; the meets would get longer as they advanced up the ranks. Dressed in their team windbreakers with medals around their necks they spoke excitedly for a few minutes before dispersing to their houses. Rick looked proudly at his pair of gold medals and before he jogged up the walk to his house he glanced across the street at Lara's. He wanted to ring the bell, but he looked at his watch and decided it was too late and his parents were planning to take him out tomorrow anyway. He would just have to catch up with her on Monday.


End file.
